Promises to Keep

chapter 14


MIND ONLY SLIGHTLY more at ease, Jay followed Rikai’s servant to the doorway and then tackled the long drive back to SingleEarth. He ordered his usher tux for Jeremy and Caryn’s wedding, but when he found the bride and groom fussing over a seating chart—No, we can’t place Aunt Celia so close to Mark; she’s an uncontrolled psychic and won’t be able to screen out his schizophrenia—he fled to the library.

I’ll update them later.

He tried searching for more information about the Shantel, but the quiet library with its large plush chairs suggested another plan.

In his head, though, voices were arguing. All he wanted was to drift peacefully, but he couldn’t quiet the furious, faceless entities whose voices intruded on his dreamworld.

Do you have no control over your children? They are vicious, hungry creatures without any compassion or drive except to destroy and enslave.

Unlike some of our kind, I know the difference between an immortal and a god. If there is a deity greater than us, then surely he is the one who gave mortals free will. Whine to him, not me.

You stole my priestess!

If I had not stolen your priestess, she would have been dirt long ago, just like all the others.

We trusted you.

That was foolish.

“I want to see the pretty witch!”

Brina’s voice, apparently still musical even at high volumes, pulled Jay out of bizarre dreams that left him groggy and disoriented. When in the last few days had he had any real sleep? He kept trying, but he had barely catnapped. Now deep night was pressing against the library windows.

Brina had probably woken at sunset.

The pretty witch. Jay was pretty sure that meant him. He briefly debated the merits and downsides of presenting himself, versus hiding behind a bookcase.

Other voices scrambled to reply to Brina, but Jay couldn’t make out the words. He could feel their anxiety, though, and their knowledge that things might get messy before someone trained to handle this kind of situation showed up.

The problem was that Jay was one of the people they were waiting for. As a hunter living at SingleEarth, he was expected to deal with threats like this.

He smoothed his hair back in its ponytail—Brina was not one to respond well to individuals presenting themselves to her unkempt—then followed the shouting.

The vampiric mediator at Haven #2 was a fledgling of Mira’s line. As Jay approached, Brina picked the young vampire up bodily and threw her down the hall hard enough to splinter the wall. Brina had just turned to Vireo, who had ducked his head into the hall to see what was going on, when Jay said, “Lady Brina. So good to see you. How can I help you?”

To Vireo, he thought as clearly as possible, I’ve got this. Stay out of the way, and keep bystanders away.

Vireo had the authority to kick him out of a sickroom, but this was Jay’s field.

“Little witch, I am very cross with you,” Brina said with a pout.

“I am sorry I had to leave earlier,” Jay replied, keeping his tone as absolutely sincere and sycophantic as he could. Brina liked flattery. She expected it, and it calmed her. “I hope you found a more worthy dance partner than I.”

Brina almost looked mollified, for a moment, before she frowned and snapped, “You have no idea why I’m upset.”

“Then I apologize once again,” he said, creeping a bit closer but not yet drawing his knife.

It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to kill Brina in SingleEarth territory. Her allies included some of the most powerful vampires.

What was bothering her? Jay still wasn’t at his best, and Brina was a madwoman on a rampage, her thoughts fragmented and angry. She genuinely believed he should know why she was angry, but that was all he could pick up.

“Fair lady, what can I do for you?” he asked.

“My maid has gone missing.”

The words evoked a sense of fear and loss, which hit Jay low in the gut. Daryl had given her this particular servant, long ago, and Brina was totally unable to manage her household without …

Oh … crap.

Rikai had said that the Shantel spirit-witch had belonged to Daryl. Of course he had given that powerful, valuable slave to his much loved sister, possibly bequeathed upon his death.

Putting the bits and pieces of previous memories together with her current thoughts, Jay could almost see how it had played out. Those moss-green eyes spotting her mistress swinging from the rafter. Cutting her down and trying to calm her.

Only to have Brina throw her out of the house for her audacity.

And then Jay had picked her up and walked away with her. Now Brina was here, demanding Jay. Xeke had tried to warn Jay not to ask about the woman he had found. Jay had been talking to him in the middle of a room full of individuals with vampiric hearing and alliances to Midnight. Any of them could have heard what little he had said to Xeke.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“If you’ll simply turn her over,” Brina said, “we can go our separate ways peacefully.”

That was going to be a problem.

“And if I cannot do that?” Jay asked carefully.

“I will allow you to replace her with something of equal value.”

Brina’s voice was cool, but Jay could feel fury under the surface. Jay stole Pet. He needed to make it right.

“May I ask her value?”

“Pet reads and writes twelve languages,” Brina replied, “and has served in my household for two hundred years. She knows my schedule, and all my contacts and preferences. She knows the proper storage and usage of all my painting supplies, and is not negatively affected by fumes from the oils … unlike my previous housemaid, whose eyes started bleeding. So tell me, how much do you think she’s worth?”

She wasn’t actually looking for a number.

“I am sorry that your maid has gone missing,” he said, not about to freely admit to walking off with her invaluable so-called possession. “If I see her, I will—”

“You have her,” she said. “I know you do. You came to the party to tell me you had her, but Exequías distracted you. Give her back.”

She considered the things she needed to deal with now that her head slave was missing, such as buying and distributing food for the other help, or procuring medical supplies. With the shapeshifter absent, such activities were simply not getting done.

It was a temporary measure—Jay would make it a temporary measure with a knife if he had to—but he said, “Perhaps I can assist you until she is returned.” He didn’t want to make this a SingleEarth problem. If the powers that be in Midnight decided he had stolen the slave, he could be claimed as payment. He would not ask SingleEarth to harbor him. “I just need to tell someone where I am headed, so they don’t think you’ve stolen me away,” he said.

Brina nodded.

Jay stepped into the front office, with Brina just behind him.

“There has been some confusion as to the location of some of Lady Brina’s property,” he explained to the nervous-looking secretary, who had overheard the entire conversation. “I’m going to go with her for now to help with her household until this is sorted out. Would you make sure Caryn is notified?”

Caryn and the rest of their kin would be able to retrieve him if necessary, or otherwise smooth the way for him to escape. As a last resort, he had his knife.

In the meantime, he was hardier than a human; oil paints wouldn’t harm him, and he could make sure Brina didn’t accidentally starve her staff.

“You may drive,” Brina said. “I did not bring a vehicle. I will give you directions.”

So kind of her.

He drove; she directed. He noticed they were going into Pyridge just in time to feel them cross the border of the circle into Midnight’s land.

Why did he feel it this time? What had changed?

They stopped in front of a Victorian-style home with large bay windows. He parked in the driveway, and Brina “allowed” him to open her door and escort her onto the porch.

The house was pretty, he decided. It would have been odd for a vampire to have so many windows, but sun wasn’t actively dangerous to vampires—only fatiguing—and Brina was an artist. She needed the light.

Brina opened the front door without a key, and a lanky feline launched itself at her.

She caught the spotted beast in her arms and pulled it to her chest with no concern for the white and gold fur that stuck to the silk bodice of her dress. The cat looked up at Jay with pale blue eyes and then looked away, apparently unconcerned.

He reached for it mentally, and received a sense of New toy? Not in the mood to play now. Dinner? It’s time for dinner. Dinner!

The cat nipped at Brina’s cheek, demanding food. It wasn’t starving, but whatever routine its meals had been set to had been disrupted, and it was annoyed that Brina seemed to want to snuggle instead of feeding it right now!

“I think your cat is hungry,” Jay said.

Food! it demanded with a plaintive yowl.

I’m working on it! he replied. The cat’s ears twitched and its tail lashed, as if to say, I did not give you permission to speak to me.

“Oh,” Brina said, dropping the cat. “Well, you can feed it. The kitchen is somewhere around here. I need … to get back to my work.”

She disappeared, leaving Jay alone in the front hall with a cross cat staring at him with ice-blue eyes.